


Hot Mess

by benodite (humanyubel)



Category: Ben 10 Series
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bencest, Character Study, Emetophobia, Gen, Headcanon, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, MadBad, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanyubel/pseuds/benodite
Summary: Ben hadn’t ever really considered the long term effects Grandpa Max’s departure had on him until he killed a looter.





	Hot Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zundoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zundoko/gifts).



 

**I.**

His name was Benjamin Kirby Tennyson and he lived in a post apocalyptic desert, a sad excuse for the town he once loved.

Things changed but he had be be ready for them, couldn't cry over spilled milk if he wanted to live.

Ben hadn’t ever really considered the long term effects Grandpa Max’s departure had on him until he killed a looter. Of course they were trying to survive but he’d found one of the terrible people who had taken from the Rust Bucket.

They had very nearly succeeded in re-selling a tire rim. Their sunburnt skin sliced under the claws of an alien he couldn’t quite remember. The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the sun beating down on him, hot tire rim pressing into his back. His Mouth tasted like sand and he ached everywhere.

Flies buzzed a short difference away. He dry heaved for the next hour, too dehydrated to cry the tears his heart wanted him to. He pulled the rim closer to embrace it, shaking in the heat of a land devoid of rain.

“Grandpa.” his throat burned “Grandpa...Grandpa..Grandpa.”

**II.**

He collected parts of the Rust Bucket whenever he could, preferred to stay in his Necrofriggian form whenever possible and only moved out at night. The parts were hidden deep within a cave and blocked off to any trespassers with a crystalline door.’’

Life was… survivable. He’d change into a Gourmand to eat most days. He’d take his Grandfather’s cooking over rocks and other inorganic materials any day.

He had the Omnitrix but had been able to do nothing. He couldn’t stop the sun, couldn’t stop the thieves from taking Grandpa Max’s RV into little bits. They had only left behind one tire and it had been flat and unusable. But at least now he had a tire rim and that flat tire.

He worried more about gathering parts for the Rust Bucket than sustaining himself, so it came to him as no surprise when the Omnitrix timed out one evening to leave him in a collapsed puddle of a kid with too many issues and not enough help.

His mouth tasted even more like sand than usual, and as he coughed out the sand blowing into his face, spots littered his vision.

_“Go home, Ben. Go home. Leave me here. You can still get out safe._ " 

He awoke to a Chronosapien bent over him, beady red eyes staring into his very being. Ben jackknifed from his position on the hard ground. The sun was just now beginning to set and it registered that he had been unconscious for a long time, who knows how long with that alien hovering over him like a freak.

“A little breathing room?” Ben snapped, voice scratchy. The Chronosapien ignored his demand.

“I’m Maltruant. I believe we can...help each other…” Ben shuddered and looked off to the side uncomfortably. Of course he would be found by some creep in the sandy expanse of Bellwood’s outskirts.

“Yeah, well, why should I help you out. More importantly- why would I want to.” He glared up defiantly at the alien.

Maltruant held up a bottle of water in front of Ben’s face. Sand had settled to the bottom of it and the water wasn't as clear as he knew was good for him… but it was water.

He reached out a hand, desperate to get even a sip of it. The government had long since taken control of the limited water supply...to see any at all was a blessing. Maltruant pulled the water bottle out of reach just in time.

¨Ah ah ah,¨ they stared at eachother for a long time, or maybe no time at all. It was difficult to tell when time beings were involved. A few beads of sweat ran down the back of Ben´s neck.

¨I think I’m willing to listen.¨

**III.**

He'd been with Maltruant for a number of months and Ben would help Maltruant with anything he needed as long as he got water and time to search for parts of the Rust Bucket. It was an easy deal they had, and as much as Ben hated the circumstances he continued on. Swallowing grit and emotional turmoil.

As much as he hated Maltruant, he was sustaining him. Had even given him the idea of fighting back against people before they had a chance to hurt you.

Meeting Vilgax was only the icing on the ¨oh my god my life is so fucked up” cake.

Vilgax knew everything, it seemed, about the Omnitrix and Maltruant and he began to mentor him. He unlocked at least fifteen more aliens within the first three days under their watch.

Vilgax told him one day, to stop the looters and the scavengers from stealing by putting them to work.

He didn't understand how that would help him. Maltruant then suggested he take out the root of Bellwood´s evil.

The government fell at his feet, crashing down like jenga blocks.

Those who had taken from him and mocked him groveled.

Vilgax and Maltruant watched with calculating eyes.

And while neither of them told him funny anecdotes from their youth, though neither fed him inedible food, though neither ruffled his hair...

He decided he liked the both of them.

**IV.**

Meeting the other “evil Bens" was an ordeal to say the least. There was a him that was barely human, dressed in all purple with sunken in skin and a terrible way with words. There was also a zombie him, a whiny emo faker him, a him that wasn’t him trapped in a ten year old’s body, and a Ben that was what he’d heard other’s label as “too pretty to be evil”.

That one looked the most like “Ben Prime”. Because apparently to the surprise of everyone (save for that kid) none of them were the original Ben Tennyson. Great.

Since they weren’t “Ben” they all needed code names because saying things like “whiny emo me do this” and “hot me do that” were apparently unacceptable.

Zombie Ben became Benzarro at the insistence of emo Ben. He seemed to love the name, repeating it endlessly and sticking close to his hooded counterpart. To his credit he never freaked out that an alternative zombie version of himself was all but cuddling up to him. Never flinched, merely gave a half hearted shrug of his shoulders.

The kid with the white hair apparently wasn’t a kid and was actually an evil alien that hated Ben Prime for numerous reasons and was currently stuck in a kid’s body as punishment. Well, that answered a lot of questions but brought up twice as many. The red eyes that glared at him challenged him to say anything.

It wasn’t worth it.

The room was silent for a long time, if you could call an abandoned warehouse a room. Hot Ben leaned against a nearby wall, smirk on his face as he waited for someone to go next. The ugliest and most annoying Ben seemed to have fallen asleep while standing up. Invasion of the body snatchers albino kid growled and took the leap.

“I already have a name! I’m not like any of you good for nothings. My name is Albedo. A-l-b-e-d-o!” The watch on his hand stood out like a thorn on a rose. Though he supposed it stood out no more Benzarro’s fused into his shoulder over his straight jacket.

He was the next to speak, figuring he might as well see what emo Ben was made of. Hot Ben’s eyes burned across his skin.

“Why don’t we call you Benny Downer. God, you don’t have to be so negative all the time you’re really biting my mood.” he’d said after emo Ben had nearly drowned the room in melancholy and generalized apathy.

Hot Ben snorted and it still managed to be the best thing he’d heard in ages.

Benzarro looked between them, dead eyes like a lost puppy. He didn’t want to think him- any version of him- could make such a pathetic expression.

“N...Nega…. Ben?” emo Ben seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding his head, lips quirking up in the slightest.

“I like that. It’s like I’m Prime’s darker and cooler side.” Albedo made a face, his small features twisting up into something unbelievably unattractive that he had to stifle a laugh at it.

_“Oh God.”_

“I’m Eon... as you all should know. That leaves you and the Ben in the corner, then.” Eon said, straight up ignoring the tension in the room.

“I hadn’t noticed.” hot Ben said, eyes rolling. Eon tutted.

“I’ve already decided your names, I think they’ll be fitting given your...roles.” Ben held back the urge to tell Eon to hurry up before he got old and wrinkly like him.

“And those would be?” Ben tapped his foot against the cold cement.

“Leader and second in command. I’ve ranked you all by your threat levels.” Eon turned to him, finger jabbing at him even from feet away. You, you’ll be Mad Ben,” Ben nodded. He had many things to be mad about and he guessed that would work for the moment.

“And you’ll be Bad Ben.” Bad Ben smirked at the group. “Mad, you’ll be second in command and Bad will be the leader of you all. You two need to work together to rear the other Bens in.” Ben couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been a leader, he had listened to Maltruant and Vilgax the Benevolent, but he’d always been in charge of something, something they had no interest in as long as he helped them out.

“Ooh, “Bad Ben”. I am pissing myself in fear.” Albedo stood from his crouch glaring at the Ben who looked the most like his sworn nemesis.

“You’re all dismissed.” The other Bens took their leave; Albedo, Nega, and Benzarro discussed unimportant matters amongst themselves. Well, more like Albedo raved to the two and Benzarro grunted empathetically.

“Haha, Eon named the other after a “cult classic”. He must not take him seriously enough.” Ben felt a vein in his head throb at the bratty alien’s blatant disrespect. He picked up a large bolt from the floor and chucked it at him. It connected with his side accompanied by a sickening smack. Albedo stumbled, exclaiming a wheezing “Shit!”

Nega let out a sigh, nodding to Benzarro. Benzarro gleefully giggled as he took hold of the back of Albedo’s shirt and drug him along behind Nega and him.

Ben stood in the center of the warehouse, fists balled up at his sides. This wasn’t his Bellwood, he wasn’t sure which Bellwood this was actually, and it really would make no difference if he stayed or if he left.

Bad Ben stood up straight and sauntered over to him. He stopped with only a few inches separating them. Up close he hadn’t realized how much taller he was than Bad. Bad tilted his head up to look at him, dark hair contrasting with his toxic waste colored eyes. He looked like a disaster waiting to strike.

“I look forward to working with you, _partner_.” Bad looked up at him through his eyelashes, nearly purring the last word.

He walked away without any further words. Each step measured with the grace and purposefulness of a lion. At the entrance of the warehouse he paused, hand on the handle of the double push doors.

“I know you won’t disappoint.” Bad turned his head enough that Ben thought he winked at him. Then he was truly gone. Even though Bad was nowhere to be seen Ben felt his eyes searing across his flesh.

His pulse hammered against his neck in an unfamiliar way.

He stayed in the warehouse, listening to the sound of cars a long distance away, faint enough to nearly be drowned out by the sound of a water leak in the warehouse.

He wanted to punch himself for delaying the inevitable. Once he left the warehouse there was no going back. There was no self.

**V.**

His name was Mad Ben and his mission was to destroy all Bens that opposed he and Bad’s ragtag group of “evil Ben’s” and Albedo.

Once they were done they would be _gods_.

Or that’s what he thought it would be like. It wasn't supposed to be any different than that. The taste of nonexistence was bitter.

**_TRY AGAIN_ **

Due to time fuckery the Watchless Ben managed to undo several things. Mad couldn't be sure what they were but he was sure he'd lived this battle before. This time around they sorely got their asses beat and he was forced from Watchless Ben’s timeline, cursing Vilgax with everything he had.

If he ever got his hands on Eon he'd strangle his cowardly neck.

At least he could rebuild. He would. He was king, though it felt wrong. No one stood at his side.

The Revonnahgander Rook Blonko was his underling, eyes filled with fear as he dutifully carried out all orders given to him.

He couldn't fill the void recently left. He'd considered crushing him underfoot several times to simply spare him. He'd been scared like that when he first met Maltruant and if he couldn't have the one he wanted why have anyone at all.

But he was useful at the moment. The Rust Bucket nearly fully assembled.

Life was close enough to perfect until Ben Prime came waltzing in with that hipster goody goody. They brought down everything he had worked so hard for was little more than a flimsy house of cards.

That tag teamed him and even with his finer control, all was lost.

Rook clamped an inhibitor around his wrist and his ego throbbed with the third successive betrayal in such a short period of time.

He was lead away to a dark, dark area and forcefully put to sleep until they could decide on his exact punishment for his “crimes against humanity”.

  
Azmuth, the creator of his Power Watch came to visit him, tinkering with his omnitrix while he was restrained.

“Why did you do it?” The Galvan didn't look up from his work, speaking as if about the weather.

He laughed, throat filled with sand and barbed wire.

“Isn't it obvious? I had nothing left to lose.”

He worked many days and for uncountable hours, always under constant surveillance. It was as bad as timed before Vilgax. Easily worse because he wandered aimlessly on a leash.

**VI.**

Sometime later, though he wasn't sure how much latter, he was made aware of the fact he wasn't alone.

Green eyes stared at him, seeming to glow in the dark.

“You came back for me?”

“We’re partners.” Mad blinked blearily at the sound of Bad’s voice.

He laughed humorlessly. Hanging his head.

  
“How'd ya manage pull that one off?”

Bad came closer, settling himself in his lap.

“I'll have you know I’m an expert at getting what I want.”

“What a charmer.” Bad leaned in, breath fanning along his cheek. Mad’s eyes fluttered shut.

“You have no idea.” A nose nuzzled against his cheek and for a moment he's stunned by the affectionate gesture.

His arms feebly shifted in their bonds.

“Let me get you out out of those.

The glow of Bad’s omnitrix illuminated his face as he looked through his aliens. He settled on an ironic choice. The Galvanic Mechamorph easily went into his techno restraints. His arms fell limply to his sides, blood flowing properly once more.

Bad returned to his lap, shifting to get comfortable.

“I suppose ya want a reward now?”

“I wouldn't mind one.”

Mad lifted a hand with effort to guide Bad’s face to his. He licked his cracked lips.

Kissing Bad was easier than breathing. He exhaled through his nose when Bad’s tongue licked past his lips.

Bad’s hands went to his hair tugging lightly. The room seemed to grow fifteen degrees hotter.

His hands went to Bad’s ass, pulling him closer. Bad ground his crotch down against his.

He giggled into Mad’s mouth, swallowing his counterpart’s moans, keeping them in the depths of his chest all for himself.

Arousal coursed through his veins, he felt dizzy before Bad pulled away to suck on the line of theist just under Mad’s ear.

“As much as I'd love to finish what you started… we have places to go.”

“Why… didja..?” Having Bad situated in his lap  
was unbearably distracting.

“Because I want you and you want me. You'll come with me, right?” Bad’s hand rested on the left side of his chest.

“I need something before we go.”

Escaping his cell was easy enough, easier than it should have been. All the guards laid on the floor unconscious. Bad stepped on an unresponsive hand on the way out.

The Rust Bucket had been left to collect dust in a storage shed. The last trace of Max Tennyson’s existence.

He boarded the Rust Bucket and held a hand out to help Bad up the rickety steps. The guy who had helped reassemble it was the best but time still took its toll on the unused RV.

Mad briefly wondered where that kid was now. Probably sucking the energy out of corroded batteries to get by.

He sat in the driver’s seat, finally grown enough to sit there without his feet dangling. Old enough that Grandpa Max didn't stand behind him, keys in hand as he listened to his grandson chatter on about nothing.

 _Grandpa_.

He stared at the wheel, the keyless ignition mocked him.

Bad slung a leg over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. The seat felt crowded, never intended for more than one person. Bad’s arms went around his shoulders, hands reaching up to stroke through his Mad’s hair. Nails scraped against his scalp.

“He knows.” Bad pressed a series of kisses across his face. “He knows.”

He felt his body go limp under the attention.

“Why me? I couldn't..” he cut himself off, unwilling to cry in front of the other boy.

“You're admirable, wouldn't you say? You're just my type and capable too.” Bad twirled a clump of hair between his fingers.

“Pretty narcissistic I’d say.” Bad snorted and his grip on the shorter boy’s hips tightened.

“You say as if you weren't just as drawn to me. If you want something why not have it? Now…” Bad nipped at his earlobe.

“Let’s go somewhere just for us.” Was there really such a place? Mad doubted it but with his partner in his arms he wanted it to be true.

“Let’s go home.” Bad cooed.

_Grandpa… I hope it's not too late to listen to you._

**Author's Note:**

> Mobile postin


End file.
